When the Sun Set and Night Washed Over
by kaptainmad
Summary: Oneshot. Bruce remembers Rachel for what she was, and laments the future they could have had. SPOILERS for The Dark Knight. Please R&R.


"When the Sun Set and Night Washed Over"

**A 'Dark Knight' Vignette.**

**By kaptainmad.**

The night she died it rained. He wasn't there when she died, he was a bare three miles away. The only time he couldn't save her, she had died. Not even all of his technology and skill could make time go to a standstill. He had only seen her a few hours before, in his arms a soft form whose warmth make him feel alive and human again.

If he had known, he would have gone for the building. Forsaking the only chance that Gotham had of redeeming itself. If he had known he wouldn't have fallen for the damn Joker's tricks. After all he was named for the trickiest card in the pile. The sun came over the horizon, flooding the darkened city with light. _The night is darkest before the dawn. _Soon enough the sun would rise over the city in all its glory, signalling that another day had come.

In a way, he wished for all it was worth that it would never rise. Because if it did it would make the pain more acute, more real than if time had really stopped.

As he watched over Gotham, he wished that it was not just him there but her as well, safe, beside him, arms perpetually crossed in defence, her eyes possessing a steely determination that made her so unique.

The pain was so real, it hurt more than any bullet, knife or bomb ever could. It felt as though a fire was blazing within him. His lungs felt like ash. He couldn't breathe otherwise he would not be able to stem the emotion that was bottled inside his damaged heart. For once in his life, he did not want to be the Dark Knight. He wanted to be anyone but Bruce Wayne, the man born into looks, wealth and power. By being someone else, he would not have to endure this pain. But he would not have met Rachel. The love of his life. Or one of many if you perceived Wayne to be an irritatingly boyish playboy.

He wouldn't have been a part of her life. He wouldn't have kissed her or held her, or even talked to her. He wouldn't have the memories.

The times when she would have chased him if he had taken one of her precious flicking stones, when they were five. Or the times when she would offer her hand if he ever fell and vice versa. He could remember the one moment when she finally kissed him for the first time. She said she would wait for him, the man she loved.

Another moment gone, a snapshot of the time that had gone by.

The memories of the stolen moments between them, floated in his mind. Once when they were both stuck in an elevator. He chuckled when he remembered being thankful that no cameras were working in the elevators that day. There was another time when she had just started dating Harvey. She had come into the basement to talk to him, only for it to spiral out of control when they kissed (for goodness how long) and held each other for all the time the sun set and the night washed over them.

He remembered the look in her eyes as he stepped off that damn helicopter, the picture-perfect billionaire playboy. He could just about hear her now, berating his treatment of women. Her beautiful voice was soft and caressing the night before she died. An angel among beasts. They had been so close yet so far from each other in those few hours, skin to skin with this massive wall separating them from ever really connecting.

The moment he left, the chance of ever bridging that divide was destroyed forever. He could remember her voice so clearly, the last time he heard it she did not know that he was there. Though somewhat obscure and distorted, to him it was clear and precise, like steel and gold. He felt her fear, her determination, her unwillingness to let panic and irrationality overcome her, and her love then, in those few precious seconds he last heard her alive.

He could almost see her now, untouched and pure, the memories of her flooding the titanium gate of his mind. In those memories, there were past moments and hints of other moments that their future should have seen. The day he would finally cease to be batman, the day in which he and Rachel would be together never to be pulled apart again, the day when he would ask her to marry him, the day they would elope under the Tuscan sun to be whisked off in his jet plane, the day he would hold their child possessing her eyes and his stubbornness, the day when they would close their eyes forever.

He would see a peaceful Gotham, a time where he could contentedly park his Tumbler and never see it again, to let it rust and dust with age as time went by. He would be only looking towards the future in which he would never have to fight like that again. That now, was a wishful dream; he couldn't and never would have a future with her. That choice lay in dreams, where it belonged.

**Author's Note: **I hope you enjoyed reading and please feel free to review. I will be continuously tweaking the story, so all constructive criticism welcome. As a disclaimer, I own no part of the Batman franchise and its affiliates. No profits are made from this written piece. I only own myself.


End file.
